A Children's Guide to Shivs
by Chisza
Summary: Riddick gets tired of Sierra breaking into his weapon's stash. He decides to do something about it before she manages to kill herself. Things get fun. Riverick. Post Addicted to Lust. M for language


A Children's Guide to Shivs

Riddick had known for most of his life that trust was a thing earned. Not lightly given in the first place, once lost, it was near impossible to get back. Whether that landed this particular situation on the good side of things or the bad was something he was still deciding. When it came right down to it, they'd never offered their trust to this particular annoyance in the first place. She had, in fact, been the first to break in on them in private. Unasked, uninvited, and dragging the whole crew in after her.

But he'd thought Zoe had put a stop to that. And that he'd managed to intimidate the little runt into staying in her bunk instead of looking for River every time she had a nightmare. Or worse, when her mother did.

::Tea and sympathy,:: River said as she slipped up behind him to peer over his shoulder. Her fingers crawled up his back, having untucked his shirt. Either he was getting better about the sexual obsession thing, or he was more pissed off than he knew; but he was able to step on the immediate urge to turn around and start pulling off her clothes. When he got this situation sorted, sure. For now though, he could hear a rapid heartbeat and smell traces of fresh blood. Their shuttle wasn't as empty as it looked.

Riddick started clearing up the mess. Some of the blades had their own sheaths. Some were true shivs, raw pieces of metal honed to an edge and left that way. Others were smaller, meant to be hidden in a boot or somewhere less obvious. His ulaks were up high enough that they couldn't be reached except by him or River; and they'd managed to keep the existence of some of the other weapons secret. But that had still left all this; fuck it all anyways.

The first time this had happened the animal had panicked. He could smell who'd done it. That wasn't the problem. But the idea of any of his blades walking off in her possession was enough to rouse every protective instinct he had. He'd tracked her down, hidden in one of the passenger dorms. She'd been playing with a bone handled Bowie that was sharp enough to have taken all her fingers before she even knew she'd touched the edge. Luckily it had still been in its sheath.

He'd grabbed it, turned her over his knee, and given her such a spanking that she hadn't sat down for a day and half. Then he'd dumped her back on the bed and made straight for the shuttle, where River met him at a run, radiating worry and panic from every pore. That had been shortly after their fight on Dyton, and she'd been up in the bridge, patently ignoring him while he tried to see how far he could get from her before his weakness snapped him back to her side like a fucking rubber band.

He figured he was allowed the loss. Better to get the fuck away from the kid before he did something unforgivable instead.

Useless to try and figure out how she'd gotten to his stuff. She'd already proven she could short the locks on the shuttle. They didn't bother with them during the day anyways. The rest of the crew understood the meaning of a closed door. Besides, at that point he hadn't made a point of hiding any of his weapons. Just had them up on a shelf or tucked in a drawer. There'd even been a half-finished shiv sitting on top of the dresser.

Not anymore.

The second time had been at night. He'd woken to the slight static buzz of the lock shorting, followed by the hiss of the door sliding open. He'd listened, slowly untangling himself from River's arms and legs, as the runt clambered onto the back of the couch. There was only one thing on that bulkhead. The high ledge that Inara had shown them how to hang curtains on. They helped keep the temperature in the shuttle from varying too much; and he appreciated them more and more every time he brought River to a shrieking climax. Shrill voices, no matter how wonderful, did not echo well off of metal walls.

Luckily he'd left his pants in a pile at the side of the bed, and the kid was so absorbed in getting to the blades he'd put on the ledge that she didn't hear him. River had been a quiet presence at the back of his mind. She'd tracked him sleepily as he ran a hand down her bare thigh so he could catch the edge of the sheet and pull it back up. He hadn't been able to draw that out as long as he would have liked though. If Sierra fell with one of his blades in her hands, who knew what fresh Hell that would break open?

The noise she'd made when he bent over and snarled in the miniature menace's ear almost made him wish he'd let her take hold of the wrong end of the blade she'd been about to grab. But he wasn't that cruel. Yet. Neither did he want to have to clean blood off the couch. Or getta new one when the residual stink finally drove him nuts.

That particular incident had resulted in a set of painfully twisted wrists for the girl as carried her out of the shuttle. Zoe had met him at the head of the stairs, bleary eyed and reeking of horror. Suddenly all the shrill protests of "Need it to fight the monsters! Need it to fight Reavers," had made a certain kind of sense.

River had confirmed it, but refused to show him what she was picking out of the woman's mind. He could guess. It seemed like everyone's nightmares ran to the same place lately. He'd been getting hints and drifts of the complex on Hera for weeks now, given to him as River picked them up in her dreamings.

The animal had snarled and hissed at everyone in general, and he'd almost snapped the little girl's wrists as his body reacted to his own leftover nightmares. Cool water had closed over his head, a hand had traced up his arm.

But he also knew what it was like to be small and on the wrong end of a beating; however many years it had been. That more than anything had kept him from truly hurting her. It hadn't kept him from getting in her face as soon as her mother had a good hold of her. "Stay the hell out of the shuttle," he'd growled. "And if you ever touch my fucking knives again, I'll show you what they're really made for."

Rage from Zoe, overpowering the sleep fogging her mind and body. She might have taken a swing at him, if she hadn't been trying to keep hold of Sierra. They should have both smelled of fear, lemony and acid. There was some, yes, but not enough.

They bred them a special sort of stupid in this part of the universe.

Behind him River giggled as she followed his train of thought, and he gave her a halfhearted growl in return. It would have been funnier if he weren't trying to figure out how to make the point that weapons weren't toys. How had they managed to keep her from killing herself in the first place? Jayne had all those guns, and fair set of blades. There was the storage locker for the general weapons stash, and even Inara carried on some of the backwater planets. That wasn't even counting what could happen if Kaylee's homemade taser ever fell into the wrong hands.

River leaned up against him, and he settled back against her as he stared at the handfuls of blades and tried to come up with a plan. Escalating levels of anger and displays of temper weren't going to solve anything. If her mother couldn't get her to listen for very long; none of the rest of the crew was going to manage it either. What was it about _his_ weapons that had the kid so fixated?

Soft lips on his shoulder. He could feel her grinning against his skin. Lilacs drifted through the air, mixing with apples and rain and telling him he was pretty much on his own with this one.

"Still the new," River said. "Still the fascinating. You fought monsters. Glow blue." She prodded him in the ribs and he turned to glare at her.

"Have magic eyes," she continued, ignoring his bared teeth to feather her fingers around his cheekbones.

Some of the anger leeched away with her touch, and he sighed as he stood. "And I like killing people."

She flowed to her feet, all liquid grace and perfect balance. "When they need killing," she agreed. There was no denying it. That's what this really came down to. These were his weapons. His. Found or made for his hand. For one purpose. Rare was the time when someone besides River got the first strike. Rarer still that he didn't make them didn't pay for it in blood.

The animal nudged something up to the surface of his mind and he stilled, setting down a fistful of blades so he could run his palm up River's calf as he considered. He could feel her move through his mind as she peered at the thought. It should work. Even if it didn't get the kid to stay out of his shit, it was probably a good idea. There was a reason River'd taught her to short locks and crawl through the air ducts; and it wasn't to torture people by popping in on them unwanted and unannounced.

The girl leaned back against the jaguar and smiled. The weapon slipped out of the stream and sat on the edge of the bank, watching the goings on with interest and no little anticipation. The man couldn't find any huge flaws, so long as he managed to keep the runt away from all the blades that were too big for her.

River's skin was smooth under his hand as he traced his fingers up her leg and stood. Vanilla trickled through the air as she shifted closer. Her pleasure at his solution was almost palpable. But he could still scent fresh blood, along with a trace of tears. And he'd been hearing a steady sniffle; muffled as the owner tried to hide her misery. Given what he'd figured had happened; that was worlds better than he'd expected.

River bumped her hip against his and he shook his head as he followed the direction of the motion. Sure enough, hidden under the control console, he found a little girl with skin somewhere between light and dark. Wiry curls, a gift from her mother, surrounded a face that could have been considered sweet. If the person looking at her didn't know what a little demon she was. And if it hadn't been scrunched up in pain, tears leaking from huge eyes as she clutched a bleeding hand to her chest.

He wanted to yell at her all over again, but that wouldn't do either of them any good. Instead, he reached out with one finger and hooked the hilt of the blade between her feet. Her eyes followed it as he eased it away from her and he bit back a sigh. She couldn't have gotten her fingers all the way around the handle. And the slightly waved blade was longer than her forearm, decorated with fresh blood near the hilt. He had no idea what she'd thought she was doing with this thing.

Something in her scent shifted. He looked from the blade to the girl to find that she was glaring at him, jaw set and eyes blazing. The expression wavered when her hands clenched, and she let out a little whimper of pain.

Setting the knife aside, knowing River would get it out of the way when she came back with the bandages, Riddick reached back under the console and grabbed for her overalls. She scrambled to get away. He lost the suspenders before to get ahold of the back of the outfit and haul her out of her hiding place.

She kicked, but it was a futile effort. He caught one bare foot before it impacted with his chin and growled at her. "You want to learn how to use that thing or not?"

She froze. Surprise colored the air as she turned her tear streaked face up to his. "R…really," she stammered.

A moment to ask himself what he was doing. Another to remind himself that he'd managed to teach _Jack_ the basics, and he nodded. "Two conditions. One," he held up a finger and her eyes crossed to look at it. "You use the blades _I_ give you. No touching my shit. Got that?"

She nodded and he heard River swallow a giggle as she slipped up behind him. The kid's eyes were still crossed, and he had to admit she looked ridiculous. But this was serious. Someday it might mean the difference between life and death. If only because it taught her that grabbing the live edge of a weapon was not the best way to handle something too big for her. She still had that fist balled up. The copper tang of the blood weeping between her fingers was getting distracting.

"Two." He hauled the animal back in line and held up another finger. "You do what I say, when I say it. This is as much to keep you from killing yourself as it is learning how to handle a blade. Got me?"

She blinked at him, jaw slack. He curled a lip and snarled in her face. "I said. You got me?"

She nodded, head bobbing so fast he was amazed it didn't fall off. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he set her down and moved aside. In his mind the girl in the sundress gave a contented sigh before snuggling a little deeper into the curve of the animal. The man exchanged a look with the weapon.

In the physical River crouched next to him, her thigh brushing his, and opened the first aid kit. He distracted himself by watching the shift and sway of her skirt over her legs as she worked on the slice in the little girl's hand. One finger tracing up and down her spine, he started lining things out, and already chasing ideas and plans around for how to make this work.

Here went nothing.

~ACGtS~

In retrospect, he should have let Zoe know what he was doing. The smirk on River's face told him that she'd thought of it and had decided to let him measure out the rope to hang himself. Witch. He'd have to come up with some sort of suitable revenge for that little stunt.

Not that he cared at the moment. He was a little busy with other things. Like not holding himself.

He hadn't planned to hide the lessons from the Zoe. It had just ended up that way. Whenever he had a free moment, or whenever Sierra wandered up to the bridge while the rest of the crew was busy; he'd squeeze in a lesson or two.

He'd dug a smallish blade out of the general stores and done his best to blunt the edge and tip. It was still a little big for the girl, but she'd grow into it. Then he'd stolen a piece of pool chalk out of a bar on the last little moon and coated the edge of the weapon. Every blue mark he saw on her meant another week that he wouldn't let her near something that could slice her open.

She'd spent the first three days covered in blue around the hips. That should have been his warning. Zoe's mutterings about laundry had been quiet, but since he never let Sierra wander around with the modified blade, he hadn't twigged to any danger.

Instead he'd pointed out every line of blue and told the kid just how quickly she might have bled out from this or that theoretical injury. Something must have sunk in. Or else the healing cut across her palm reminded her. But gradually the blue marks vanished, and she learned that fiddling with the blade never got her anything but growls and snarls and a lecture. He hoped the lessons would stick when he finally let her have a live weapon. Or at minimum, she'd build up some muscle memory for handling the thing.

One day River had laughed at him as he sent Sierra out of the bridge. ::She wants to make you proud. Has your attention now. Wants to keep it.::

He'd stared at her, then shaken his head as he tucked the blade down into his boot. He never could understand what kids saw in him. If they'd had any sense at all they should have run screaming. But without fail,they just wanted to follow him around. Jack had, and look where that had gotten her. He'd managed to get rid of Ziza and her mother before the kid learned too many bad habits off him. And now Sierra. No way he could get rid of her. Teaching her how to _not_ kill herself was probably the best he could do.

River had come over and sat in his lap while he'd thought on it, head tucked up under his chin and feet dangling over the arm of the chair. "Better she learns. Better she can defend herself later. Who knows what will happen next? Who knows what dangers she'll face?"

She had a point.

So he'd worked his fingers up through her hair, ran circles around her knee with his thumb, and started working on what came next with the lessons. It was one thing decided to teach the kid. Another to manage it while she was so small. Everything he knew had to get reworked for her size.

A week later it was all moot. He and River and Kaylee had stayed behind while the rest of the crew went off to town to run errands, get their next job, and generally stretch their legs. Jayne had shaken his head at Sierra hovering in the bay while they all left. Riddick could smell the confusion coming off the man as the little girl gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then hopped up on a crate.

Riddick knew she was just waiting till the cargo bay was clear to beg him for another lesson. That should have been another clue as to impending trouble. Little witch was sneakier than anyone gave her credit for.

An hour or so later he'd been down in front of her, showing her ways to hold the blade for different sorts of attacks, when he heard booted feet on the ramp and Zoe calling for River. He'd been ignoring all the traffic outside, so the intrusion was more than a little surprising. He'd looked up, one hand still wrapped around Sierra's as he positioned the dull tip of the blade up against his ribs, and realized that he was going to get shot.

Fucking hell.

River had laughed so hard that she'd almost fallen off the crates where she'd been sitting. He didn't even have time to glare at her before Zoe stomped over. Sierra, little terror that she was, had held up her blue chalked weapon and grinned. "Momma! Riddick's teaching me knives!"

Fury had filled the air. Her heart went off like a drum inside her chest. But it had been her face that was the biggest sign of danger. Flat and stony, she'd glared down at him where he was kneeling on the deck plates, dropped one hand to the Mare's Leg along her thigh, and silently demanded a reckoning.

So he'd gotten to his feet, the better to get moving if she drew on him, and crossed his arms. His shirt was covered in blue chalk marks from showing the girl places to injure or disable; but that wasn't important at the moment. One last mental shove at the girl inside his head to try and make her shut the fuck up, and he turned back to Zoe. "It keeps her out of my shit," he'd snarled. "She keeps sneaking in and playing with my blades, she's going to kill herself one day."

He'd stepped forward to crowd the woman back, growling under his breath. "As dangerous as this ship can be, it's better that she know how to defend herself. Hiding in the vents won't work forever."

He should have stopped sooner. But truth was truth. It was just to sort of truth Zoe didn't want to admit yet.

It was also the sort of truth that got him into situations like this. He'd never realized the woman had such a vindictive streak.

She'd looked at him for another moment; face still that mask of rage that every woman on the ship shared when they considered how best to hang him up and gut him out. Finally she'd held out a hand to Sierra, who was clutching the knife to her chest. Tip down and edge out. He felt a hint of pride that she'd managed it without getting her arms marked up with chalk. Sierra had come forward and stared up at her mother with those huge eyes, tears pooling in the edges.

But whether it was because she was a mom or because she was just Zoe, the first mate's expression didn't change a whit. Neither did her scent, although her heart rate was quieting some. She gestured, and the little girl offered up the knife. Slowly, like she didn't want to give it up at all.

Zoe took it from her and turned it over in both hands, weighed it for a moment, then looked up at Riddick. He scowled at her. Did she think he'd let the kid have anything with a real edge on it, after the bitching he'd been doing when she got into his live weapons? Did she think he was teaching her to kill people? What the fuck did she think he was anyways? Kid had a lot of growing to do before he showed her any of that shit.  
Over on her crate, River choked again, and lilacs filled the air as he prodded her for an explanation. But the girl in the tree just flapped a hand and went back to burying her face in the animal's stomach as peals of mirth rippled through her mind. He almost asked her outright what the fuck was so funny, but Zoe interrupted that train of thought.

"Balance is off," she muttered. "You screwed it up when you blunted it."

He grunted. He knew that.

She looked back down at the weapon, then tucked it into her belt and held out a hand to her daughter. "C'mon. Let's you and I have a talk." The steel in her voice wasn't just for the Sierra, and the look in her eyes was all for Riddick. He figured there'd be a talk between them too. Probably at high volumes and laced with expletives. He told himself he didn't give a fuck. She could bitch at him all she wanted. What was done was done.

That right there should have been the most important clue. He really should have known better.

~ACGtS~

He had to give it to Zoe. She was sneaky. He'd seen it in her before, but it hadn't ever been directed at him like it was now. If she'd had a problem with him, she'd always been fairly direct. Painfully, in a couple of cases. River packed a punch, but when Zoe decided she was pissed, she hit like a mule.

They'd just broken atmo when Kaylee waddled into the bridge and said that dinner was ready. You two gonna stay up here and keep nuzzling each other or you come down and eat with the crew? River had giggled. Riddick had rolled his eyes and shoved her off the arm of his chair. Kaylee had grinned at them both before heading back down the hall.

It was Jayne's turn to cook tonight. So long as he didn't get too fancy, the man could actually make protein taste like it might have dreamed of being food. Considering Simon had done breakfast and he'd missed lunch, his stomach was saying it was time to do something about the whole eating thing.

River snorted, pressed a kiss to his jaw, and tucked herself under his arm. "Surprises," she said. "And steamed pork buns."

Try as he might, he couldn't get her to elaborate. She'd blocked off whatever was still making her reek of lilacs; and he started to get the sinking feeling that she was conspiring against him.

Last time that had happened, he'd ended up wandering naked through the ship, his towel and all his clean clothes having been stolen while he was in the shower. The fit Mal had pitched had been epic. His ears had been hurt worse than his dignity; but he'd gotten his revenge by never letting her shower alone since.

His pushing at her mental barriers came to a halt as they stepped through the hatch and found the whole crew sitting there, staring at them. Zoe had a hip propped up on one corner of the table. Her arms were crossed, and the corner of her mouth was twitching.

Oh fucking hell.

"Well," she said. "Talked it over with Sierra. River too."

Oh this wasn't going to be good.

"Ya got a fair point. Life we lead is dangerous. Especially for a kid. So you want to give her lesson, that's fine. But you let me know ahead of time what she's gonna be learn'n. Don't need another bloodthirsty terror runnin' around the ship."

Fucking families. Why'd he ever let himself get dragged into this place? The rest of them were just watching. Mal had his fingers steepled in front of his face to hide the grin. What was the bitch planning?

Whatever it was, Sierra didn't need any instructions. Her mother laid a hand on her shoulder, pushed her gently forward, and then sat back to watch the show. The little girl walked up, that modified blade clutched in both hands, and stopped right in front of him. He looked down at her, not sure what he was supposed to do or say.

Nothing apparently. She grinned at him, eyes full of mischief, and said "Momma said she'd teach me too!"

Then his balls exploded. He grunted, managed not to backhand the kid, and tried not to curl up in agony. What the holy fucking hell had just happened? How the fuck?

Laughter roared in his ears, and he braced himself against the table as he tried to get his bearings. There was Zoe, smug smile on her face. There was River, sitting on her heels and leaning her forehead against a chair leg, laughing fit to burst. There was the rest of the crew, the psycho fuck family he'd gotten grafted into somehow.

And there was Sierra.

Her eyes were wide with shock, and she was looking from him to the hilt of the knife she'd just punched him with and back. He snarled at her and stepped on the temptation to grab her and shake the life out of her. For one thing, he couldn't stand up straight. For another it was really her mother, and possibly River, who needed to be taught a lesson. Bitches. This explained so much about Zoe's reaction this afternoon and River's amusement ever since.

He'd just about gotten himself pulled together, and was seriously considering a shiv in the gut for Zoe, when a small hand laid itself over the one he was using to brace himself on table. He looked down at the runt who had the stupidity to still be in arm's reach. She had tears in her eyes. Her scent was hard to pin down through all the humor in the air, but she looked almost devastated.

"So sorry," she whimpered. "Didn't know! Momma didn't tell me it would make you fall over!" She tilted her head so she could look him right in the eye. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better like momma does for me?"

 **Author Note:** __Another one bites the dust! Whoo! I can't remember if this started with the whole 'Sierra won't stay out of the shuttle' thing, or if it was the idea of Riddick getting punched in the balls by a five year old girl. I think it was the latter. Either way, I ran with it. Hope you like! Please let me know!

As always, they don't belong to me!


End file.
